


Should've Watched Die Hard

by fuzipenguin



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Humor, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sideswipe is pretty much the worst person to watch a movie with...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should've Watched Die Hard

**Author's Note:**

> First Transformers fanfic ever! Originally published on Livejournal 10-2-11. For the prompt 'Dirty Dancing' at livejournal's twins_x_ratch community.

        Sideswipe looked over his shoulder at the human girl perched on Bumblebee’s knee. As he was sitting on the floor in front of the couch’s middle, they were almost eye to optic.  
  
       “Really? We’re watching this? We could have been watching Die Hard. We could have been enjoying explosions and guns. Lots of guns,” Sideswipe said, somehow moving his faceplates in a pretty good approximation of a human pout.  
  
       “We’re watching Die Hard?” Sunstreaker asked, striding into the room and sprawling down beside his twin. “Is this a commercial?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as his optics took in the images of several humans dancing together on the rec room’s huge wide screen.  
  
       “No,” Sideswipe said, sending another glare Mikaela’s way. “We’re watching Dirt Dancing. It’s her turn to pick tonight,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.  
  
       “It’s _Dirty_ Dancing. And yes, it was my turn to pick. So suck it up or get out.” Mikaela glared right back, helped along with the Look that Bumblebee was giving them both.  
  
       “But there’s nothing else to do!” Sideswipe whined, accidently knocking up against Sunstreaker’s shoulder as Sidewipe turned and tried to plead his case.  
  
       “Careful!” Sunstreaker growled and forced his brother to face forward again. “Just watch the fragging movie. Here, buff my shoulders; that’ll keep your hands busy.” The yellow twin removed a polishing cloth from subspace and dropped it onto Sideswipe’s lap.  
  
       “You’ve got to be kidding me!”  Sideswipe protested vehemently, staring at Sunstreaker’s back.  
  
       “Shut up!” Mikaela yelled. Sideswipe had whirled around and just opened his lipplates when a loud clank echoed in the room. Sideswipe winced and rolled out from under Ratchet’s fist, glaring up with bright, offended optics at the medic.  
  
       Ratchet settled himself down at the far end of the Autobot’s couch, nudging Sunstreaker’s leg out of his way. “You know the rules, Sides. Now settle down or you and I will be making a special trip to the medical bay for an early systems flush.”  
  
       “Fine,” Sideswipe said, grumbling under his breath. He slapped the cloth onto his brother’s shoulder and did his best to ignore the smarmy “Thanks, Ratchet,” that came from Mikaela. Moving the cloth in hard strokes, he kept eyeing the television; at first with resentment, and then eventually with growing interest.  
  
       “Does he want to mate with her?” he asked, seeing similar expressions on the faces of the main actors as he had seen on Mikaela’s and Sam’s faces in the past.  
  
       Mikaela coughed a little. “Uh, yeah, basically.”  
  
       “Do all humans engage in dancing like that before mating?” he asked, closely observing the splay of hands on body parts and the closeness of the actors.  
  
       Ratchet cuffed Sideswipe upside the head again. “Cut the commentary.”  
  
       “Hey! You’re the ones who told me to watch. I’m learning about the humans’ culture,” Sideswipe said smugly.  
  
       “Less chatting, more polishing,” Sunstreaker said, bumping his shoulder to jostle Sideswipe’s idle hand.  
  
       “No one ever lets me have any fun,” Sideswipe muttered. Ratchet and Bumblebee exchanged a long suffereing look over the Twins’ heads and then turned their attention back to the screen.  
  
        _I will never understand human mating rituals,_ Sideswipe complained to his brother over their private bond.  
  
        _Humans are disgusting,_ Sunstreaker agreed. _More to the left._  
  
       Sideswipe glanced up to see the two humans on screen engaged in what looked to be the preliminaries to sex and Sunstreaker watching avidly. _More to the left, huh?_   Sideswipe brought up his other hand and gently stroked down his brother’s lower back, fingering the seems in the armor over Sunstreaker’s hip plating.  
  
        _Sideswipe…_ his brother warned with fond exasperation.  
  
        _What? You seem like you’re really getting into this whole dirty dancing thing._  
  
       Sunstreaker shook his head and shot a glance over his shoulder to see Sideswipe grinning mischievously. _That’s repulsive. Get your hands off of me._ Sunstreaker tried to shrug his brother off, but Sideswipe leaned forward and draped himself over Suntreaker’s back, hands sliding around to trace obscure patterns on the yellow abdominal plating.  
  
       “I think we should try it,” Sideswipe urged. “Expand our repertoire,” he said, engine purring softly and vibrating pleasantly against Sunstreaker’s back.  
  
        _Not with filthy organic tricks, we won’t,_ Sunstreaker said, arching into Sideswipe’s strokes despite himself.  
  
       “Hey, where did you think I learned that exhaust pipe thing that you and Ratch like so much?” Sideswipe asked, smirking.  
  
       “What do the two of you think you’re doing?” Ratchet suddenly thundered behind them, and Sideswipe froze with his hand hovering low over Sunstreaker’s belly.  
  
       “Practicing dirty dancing. We just haven’t gotten to the dancing part yet,” Sideswipe said with a cheeky grin. His smile turned predatory as he looked Ratchet up and down. “I’m sure you got a couple of moves you could show us, couldn’t you, you old mech?”  
  
       With a roar like a maddened bull, Ratchet shot off the couch and after the Twins who had darted up before Sideswipe had even finished speaking. Barely more than a yellow and red blur, they fled the room with trailing laughter, the enraged medic not far behind.  
  
       Blinking a little rapidly, Mikaela looked at Bumblebee, her face twisted into an expression he couldn’t decipher. He figuratively held his breath; under Prime’s decree, they all had been told to not discuss Cybertronian reproduction, thinking it might disturb the gender-defined humans. However, if she asked directly, he would find it very difficult to lie to one of the people he now considered a best friend.  
  
       “I think I’m going to switch over to Die Hard now,” Mikaela said. “And plan on having a talk with Ratchet tomorrow.” Nodding to herself, she scrambled down Bumblebee’s arm and off the couch, heading over to the human’s DVD player.  
  
       Bumblebee watched her change out discs with some trepidation. Oh, not for himself. Sometimes the loss of his voice box was a wonderful excuse for getting out of touchy subjects. But he definitely would love to be a fly on the wall when Mikaela cornered the medic tomorrow and asked about interfacing. Trying to clarify a relationship that had most Autobots puzzled was sure to be entertaining when explained to a human.  
  
       Mentally shrugging, Bumblebee picked Mikaela up and settled back into the couch cushions. Explosions, here we come!  
  
  
~ End


End file.
